


Piano Magic

by JessieCade



Category: The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Family Reunions, Fluff, Gay, Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 00:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessieCade/pseuds/JessieCade
Summary: Gatsby is incredibly talented at playing the piano and making Nick fall in love with him





	Piano Magic

Nick was absolutely entranced, and his heart danced to the music.

He sat at Gatsby’s side as Gatsby’s fingers danced along the keys of the piano, his eyes closed as he got a feel for the old, grand instrument. It was late at night- much too late, really- but Gatsby had insisted on Nick staying for the sole purpose of wanting to spend time with him. Just as friends of course, because what pair of ‘just friends’ sat close as one tried to woo the other with the sound of love’s instrument?

His fingers drew out music that Nick recognized as Russian. Nothing from _America_ could sound like _that._ It was beautiful to him, though (and very complicated sounding), and obviously it was to Gatsby, too. He couldn’t help but wonder why Gatsby would play music like that, though. So drawn out, so elegant with sad, _very_ sad, undertones, instead of that day and age’s swing music. But Gatsby was cultured and tasteful, unlike himself.

“Why, Jay, this music is outstanding,” Nick said, patting him on the back, “how did you learn to play this fast? This- this beautifully?”

Gatsby grinned and only opened his eyes enough to give him a sly side-glance before shutting them again. “A family friend from Russia- related _directly_ to Wolfgang Amadeus- taught me some of his finest works. Perhaps I could teach you?”

Suddenly, the air was empty and devoid of any melody. Nick actually _shivered_. Gatsby’s manor, without any type of excitement or liveliness, might as well have been occupied by ghosts. Warmth returned to him, though, when Gatsby set one of Nick’s hands on his own, aligning their fingers and moving slowly so Nick could get a feel for a song that started out simply.

“Have you heard that song, Carol of the Bells?”

Nick thought about it a moment as he tried to keep his hand relaxed on Gatsby’s, and concluded that he had. It was actually a rather popular Christmas song, he just hadn’t really bothered to remember it’s name until then.

“Christmas is close, next month I believe, and we’ve known each other for quite some time,” Gatsby hummed, gently helping Nick play the first few notes a few times before letting Nick play them on his own. The smile on his face when it was achieved with perfection made both of their hearts warm. “Perhaps you could spend it with my family and I,” he finally continued, his cheeks slowly turning a hot pink, “seeing as though your only family here is Daisy… unless you’ll be with her family, then-”

“Jay,” Nick laughed, this time putting his hand on Gatsby’s. This hand grounded Jay’s other from instinctively continuing the music, again emptying the air of life. It didn’t make it colder this time, though. They were too focused on the heat emanating between them. “I would love to meet your family. I’m sure they’re just as interesting as you are. Your father was nice when I met him.”

They both recalled the last time they had met his father. It was his near-death experience after being shot by Wilson. Gatsby had awoken in the hospital to the sound of Nick and his father conversing at the foot of his bed, and he was more than happy to see the both of them. It was then that he had made the silent agreement with himself that he would no longer seek Daisy’s attention or give her anymore of his. It was because of her that he ended up in the hospital, afterall, and she had chosen Tom over him. The only person really there for him was Nick, anyways, and he was more than content with that.

“They’ll be coming from all over the country _and_ overseas,” Gatsby bragged, subconsciously scooting closer to Nick so there wasn’t really any space between them, “I’m sure they’ll enjoy your company as well, I know I do.”

“Well, if they’re anything like you, I’m sure I’ll enjoy their company, too.”

Gatsby chuckled at this and shook his head, moving his hand from under Nicks and patting his back with it.

“I’d say they’re more like you, old sport. They’re not quite as wealthy as I… they’re more of your class.” He paused, then blushed with realization of his statement. “Well, I didn’t mean-”

“Jay, I understand,” Nick assured, laughing at his reaction, “that just makes me less nervous, thank you.”

Jay exhaled with relief and before he could say anything more to embarrass himself, he removed himself from the bench they sat on and walked around to the other end of the piano.

“I’m glad you’ve agreed to come, I’ve already made them aware that I had a special friend attending.”

“_Special_ friend?” Nick questioned, only making Gatsby’s blush worse. 

“Nevermind my word usage, a friend is a friend.” He fixed the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie and leaning against the piano. “And I know you won’t disappoint, you never have.”

“James, where in the world is this friend you’ve been talking about?”

Gatsby looked around the room anxiously, fixing his tie as a distraction. The master room of his home, being the room which held the majority of the people that attended his parties, had slowly filled with family members within the last hour, but Gatsby hadn’t heard a word from Nick all day. He stood by the front door with his father, looking over the crowd of people and remembering who was who. He hadn’t talked to any of his family in a while, actually, and it took a moment or two to remember everyone’s faces. Sad, but he wasn’t ashamed of it. He was a new man, too.

“His name was Nick, wasn’t it?”

“It _is_,” Gatsby minded, nodding to himself. “Will you excuse me?’ He asked abruptly. “I need to make a call.” Before his father could respond, Gatsby excused himself upstairs to his office where it was much quieter- it wasn’t really loud downstairs, but there wasn’t a phone either- and quickly, with a slightly shaky hand, he dialed Nick’s phone.

Which rang, and rang, and rang, until he figured it wasn’t going to be picked up. Sighing out of frustration, he quickly took a winter coat from the closet and without hesitation made the decision to go collect Nick himself.

He left from the backdoor without being seen (thankfully) and found that it was even quieter outside than in his office. The snow that thickly blanketed the ground and fell from the empty, grey sky made the outside seem _dreadfully_ dreary. Had it been storming or even snowing a little harder, one would surely get lost. 

The setting was perfectly peaceful, though.

It took him no time at all to reach Nick’s front door, and as usual he invited himself in. Nick, though he minded it at first, eventually got used to Gatsby doing this. “My home is yours, afterall,” Gatsby had told him many times, so he made sure that his home was Gatsby’s as well.

The living room was abandoned of anything living besides plants, most notably a poinsettia Gatsby had gifted him a week back. It stood beautifully on the mantle, but Gatsby didn’t allow himself to get distracted as he continued his search for his _special_ friend. It didn’t take him too long to find that he was in his bedroom because the door was, for once, locked.

“Nick? Are you in there, old sport?”

Nick responded, his voice muffled by the door, “Jay, what are you doing here?”

Gatsby scoffed. “I came to check on you, of course! Open the door or come out, I’ve also come to escort you to my party-”

“I can’t come.”

Time froze for a second, almost as icy as it was outside. Gatsby’s heart had sank at these words, making his hands feel just as cool, too. “Well, why not? My father had asked for you as well, surely you’d like to see him, too?”

“Sure I would, but I… can’t.”

“And why not?” Gatsby asked again with more force behind his words. When he asked, the door opened slowly to reveal Nick behind it holding up some pieces of glass in his cupped hands, his face crestfallen. Gatsby took a moment and picked up a piece, putting them all together in his mind and picturing a small, lovely, glass swan. “What is this?”

“A gift I bought for you, for Christmas. I’ve been trying to fix it all day, and I suppose the time had gotten away from me.”

Gatsby’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. By the looks of it and it’s supposed beauty, the small trinket would have cost a pretty penny. It made his heart melt at the gesture and he smiled fondly, gently pushing Nick’s hands down with one hand and using his other to tilt Nick’s chin back up to look at him.

“Oh, old sport, no need to worry about this. You needn’t get me a gift at all, your presence tonight is gift enough. Come, I’ve got a gift for you as well.”

Nick looked at him skeptically, secretly falling for his alluring smile before nodding once and walking back into his room to put the pieces of glass back on his desk. He grabbed his coat before they left for Gatsby’s home, their trek silent as they savored nature’s setting before being swallowed by warmth again.

“Ah, Nick, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show,” Gatsby’s father had greeted them, enveloping Nick in a hug. Nick smiled warmly, finding his cheeks to warm quickly as Gatsby’s arm found itself around his waist. No one but him seemed to notice.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Gatz. You look to be doing well.”

“And so do you. I know Jimmy’s aunt Marla and cousin Maurice have been dying to meet you, too! Don’t be a stranger.”

“A-lright,” Gatsby wiped his mouth as if he could wipe the embarrassed grin from his face, “he’ll have plenty of time to meet everyone, don’t rush him. Come on,” he said, turning to Nick quickly, “I need to show you something.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Gatsby’s father reminded Nick once more with a comforting smile before the two went off towards the piano. Gatsby ushered Nick to take his usual seat, and once he did Gatsby took a step up so he was standing on his seat, clinking a glass he had picked up to gain everyone’s attention. The room was suddenly hushed.

“Thank you, everyone, for accepting my invitation. I know it’s been quite some time since I’ve fraternized with any of you, and for that I give my apologies. I’m a new man from the last time you’ve seen me, so thank you for accepting my gift of bringing you down to meet me and my… special friend.” He sent a wink towards Nick before continuing. “Before continuing with our socializing, I’d like to perform a piece I’ve been practicing for quite some time. Carol of the Bells by Mykola Leontovych.”

Carefully, he stepped down before sitting in his place, cracking his knuckles then gently taking Nick’s hand and placing his fingers on the beginning keys.

“You know the first few, start me off,” Gatsby whispered, winking at him. Nick’s cheeks were an eruption of flames as he felt all eyes on him, and he did so, being careful to start with the right tempo before letting Gatsby take over. 

It was beautiful. Not a single note played wrong. The man played with such fiery intensity and passion that Nick and everyone else was in awe. The floor beneath them vibrated with the sound that spilled from the piano, and around them the wreaths and tinsel that adorned the walls seemed to quiver as if there was an earthquake.

By the end of it, the room was completely silent for a good few seconds before a bout of claps started up. Gatsby stood and bowed, but Nick was unable to move with shock. The sly grin he received from Gatsby didn’t help matters, but instinctively he stood when Gatsby offered his hand and suddenly they were finding themselves outside again.

They were both quiet for a moment, mostly for Nick to find the right words to say and feelings to express. Gatsby’s attitude was all of a sudden cocky, feeling proud of his performance and knowing that Nick was thoroughly impressed and had enjoyed it. Afterall, it was just for him.

“That was beautiful,” Nick started, feeling, unexpectedly, that it was hard to make eye contact with him, “it must have taken you months to learn how to play that, I wouldn’t have had the patience for it.”

“Well I’m glad you liked it, I mustered up the patience for you.”

It was at that that Nick looked at Gatsby, their eyes meeting instantly. Though it was surely below freezing where they stood on the lawn, the warmth from inside had found them and made Nick’s heart beat wild like thunder. 

Gatsby’s enchanting smile captivated him and he drew closer without Gatsby having to make him, and right there in front of God anyone who dared to peer outside the windows, the two kissed so deeply. 

When they broke apart for air, Nick said something that almost made Gatsby lose more of his breath with laughter. “We ought to go back inside, we’ll probably catch a cold.”

“But the snow looks so beautiful in your hair, I wish I had a camera to capture this moment.”

Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded to them which came closer. “You will,” it was Gatsby’s father, “don’t worry, I brought my camera for the occasion. I knew something worth taking a picture would happen.”

Since the weather hadn’t made Gatsby freeze in place, it was the shock of his father having seen what just happened and recording it that did. Nick burst into laughter seeing Gatsby’s cheeks turn as red as the flowers that decorated the walls and hallways inside. Carefully, he took his hand and pulled him out of his trance.

“Well,” he said with a titter, “I see your father is accepting.”


End file.
